


Simple Introductions, Complicated Discoveries

by indigororo



Series: Live and Let Die [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Original Mythology, POV Original Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:51:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indigororo/pseuds/indigororo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First part of Live and Let Die.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2015--Present Day

**Author's Note:**

> Quick Disclaimer--
> 
> I am in no way a professional author, so please expect typos, inconsistent grammar, and cheesy dialogue. I have a hard time writing Dean's character as he is the polar opposite of myself. I mainly just wanted to write for the sake of writing and I wanted a fic that was different than most. By that, I mean strong female leads with a believable relationship with Dean. (The latter of which I don't think I achieved)
> 
> I do in fact accept HELPFUL CRITICISM. That does not mean you just tell me, "You suck at writing!". Helpful criticism is when you tell me why it "sucks" and how I can improve it.
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy! <3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Dean, and Brooke make their way back to Ann Arbor for the first time in nine years to investigate the death of Kyle Jennings, a college student.

“Ready to go?” Dean says, patting my shoulder as he passes by. He zips up his duffel bag and slings it onto his shoulder before turning to check on me. “Brooke? Come on. Sam’s waiting in the car.”

“Dean, this is my first time going back there since…”

He pauses then I hear his footsteps approaching. He slides into the chair opposite me and holds my hand on the table.

“The first time I went back to Lawrence after my mother died was one of the toughest things I had done at the time. But there was a case there. And people who needed our help. I even got to see my mother again,” he lets out a small laugh. Then, he touches a finger to my chin and I look up at him. His sharp emerald eyes are soft and glimmer with a touch of sadness.

“Brooke, you’re going to do fine. Lucky for you, Ann Arbor is about a thousand times bigger than Lawrence, so I doubt you’ll end up in your backyard like we did.”

“You did?”

He laughs slightly. “Yeah. We went back to my old house and it turned out my mother was haunting the place. It seemed like the worst possible scenario at the time, but once she was put to peace, we felt lighter. I guess you could say it provided a bit of closure for us after all the years of not knowing what happened to her.”

I smile and lean forwards. He touches his lips to mine and I caress his cheek with a hand. We pull apart with a smack and he looks me in the eyes with confidence.

“Now are you ready?”

I nod and stand up.

“So, I could have cut the crap and just kissed you in first place?”

I swat his arm. “Shut up, you ass.” I laugh, “You know, the ‘crap’ was what actually helped,” I add, following him up the stairs and out of the bunker.

* * *

 

  
I touch my forehead to the cold glass of Dean’s Impala and watch the headlights of passing cars zip by, illuminating the wet asphalt in the darkness.

“Brooke?” Dean asks, “You awake?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, twisting uncomfortably in the seat. Never in my entire life have I been able to sleep in a car, plane, train, or other moving vehicle unless I’ve gone more than 24 hours without sleep. Because of this, whenever a drive goes into the night, Sam generously gives up the passenger seat for me.

Dean glances at me and smiles. “I remember the first time I met you.”

I laugh, then stop suddenly when Sam shifts in his sleep behind us. “That is the cheesiest thing you could say right now,” I whisper.

“It was a rainy morning in the city of Ann Arbor,” he starts with a slow dreamy voice, “and Sam and I were investigating the death of a university professor.”

I giggle and slap his arm. “Just because we’re going to the place we first met, doesn’t mean we get to take a long happy waltz down memory lane.”

On the side of the road is a green road sign simply reading: Welcome to Ann Arbor City Limit

“Hey, wake Sammy up for me, will ya? I’m taking the first motel we find.”


	2. 2006

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brooke finds her professor dead and discovers she can do strange things. Sam and Dean arrive as undercover FBI agents to question Brooke about the experience.

_One of the things I miss the most about Michigan is going outside for the first time after the snow melts. The snow melted overnight in the middle of March 2006. I stepped outside my apartment in a pair of tennis shoes. My feet felt weightless in sneakers compared to the last four months of wearing clunky snow boots and shuffling through frozen snow drifts._

_Despite the cold March air still biting at my ears, I had refused to wear any sort of winter clothes. My hands were free of gloves. My head free of coverage. My shoulders free of my usual poofy purple coat. My neck free of the confining fabrics of a scarf. The sun shining in the cloudless sky made the stinging in my fingers disappear with happiness._

_The smell was always the best part. The air felt lighter without the constant covering of grey clouds suffocating the world into dreary darkness. It smelled as it does after a rainstorm. When the worst has past and the light returns to the world. It was a deep earthy smell of good days to come and life to live. The aroma of the earth was like a sweet welcome to the promised land after the long journey through the cold abyssal months._

_I bounced along the clear sidewalk, enjoying the wetness of both the air and earth. I passed the neighboring apartments with shrunken icicles still dripping from the edges of roofs._

_Across the street, I pushed through a set of double glass doors to a small coffee shop. After ordering a hot chocolate to go, I sipped the sweet liquid, exiting the store._

_A large grey cloud creeped across the sky now, threatening to overtake the over-zealous sun. I made a note to ask my meteorologist friend how clouds can form so quickly. While watching the sky, I stepped right into the center of a deep puddle. The water instantly soaked my tennis shoes, changing the fabric to a darker shade, and I felt my toes get wet._

_I groaned and shook my foot out. I thought about how nice it could be if water could just evaporate right away. To my surprise, the water soaking the tennis shoe did just that. The water began to dry right out and the fabric began to return to its original hue. I touched the spot where it used to be dark. It was completely dry. As if nothing had ever happened._

_“What the hell?” I whispered to myself._

* * *

_I made my way to my first class in the School of Social Work building. I circled the side of the building, squeezing the hot chocolate between two hands._

_A soft moan got my attention, making me stop in my tracks. I spun on one heel and search for the source of the sound._

_“Hello?”_

_Another moan, this time softer. The grass had been flattened in one direction in a thick line as if something had been dragged across the lawn. I followed the path cautiously and turn a corner to the back of the building. I gasped and touched a hand to the wall beside me for stability at the sight of her, dropping my hot chocolate._

_On the ground lay my professor, sprawled flat. Her arms were forwards as if she had intended to continue dragging her body along. But now she lay still. I crouched on the ground next to her and dialed 911, trying to catch my breath._

_“Hello? I need an ambulance at the School of Social Work on the corner of North and East university avenue. I found my professor on the ground.”_

_“In MU?” the operator asked. “Yes. Please get here as fast as possible!”_

_“Stay on the line.” the man’s voice was calm and stern._

_“Ok.”_

_“Can you check for a pulse? Use two fingers on a vein just under the jawline.”_

_I passed the phone to my left hand and touched two fingers to her neck. I waited, but her skin was stone cold. Then I noticed that her chest wasn’t breathing and she was pale as paper. “I--I can’t feel anything.” I pulled away, my hand shaking. I stood up and turn to look at the opposing brick wall._

_“She’s stone cold.”_

_“That’s ok. I need you to stay calm, just keep by her side.”_

_Something cold and dry wrapped around my ankle. I screamed and yanked my foot away, dropping my phone. I pressed my back against the brick wall and look down at the professor. She twisted into a seated position and looked around confused._

_“Brooke, what’s going on? What’s happening?” she said with a hoarse voice and a dazed expression. “What the hell?” “What happened?”_

_Then she remembered and her eyes lit up with terror. “Where is he? Did he get you too? Brooke, answer me!”_

_I just stood paralyzed._

_“Brooke, we have to get out of here! He’s coming for me! We have to leave before he comes back.” She tried to stand up, but when she managed to get upright, she began to cough._

_“I knew this would happen,” she managed to say between coughs, “He’s been chasing us down.” She coughed harder and gasped for breath. "He's a madman!"_

_Before I could even begin to understand what was going on, she collapsed onto the grass. Her breathing ceased and her eyes resumed a blank dead look._

_I slid down the wall in shock and buried my head in my knees. I stayed in that position and didn’t look up until I heard the sirens blaring down the street._

* * *

_They were letting me take the next two weeks off classes which was what they assumed was more than enough time for me to recover from the shock of seeing my professor dead at my feet. What they didn’t know is that she had come back to life for thirty seconds. I sat solemnly on a chair that faced out the front window of my apartment. With the melting of the snow came thunderstorms galore._

_After the incident, the rain had been non-stop for three days._

_Also, the phone had been ringing non-stop. Friends calling and telling me I could talk to them anytime. Family saying they read about the incident in the newspaper. Classmates calling about missed assignments. My neighbor, Jordan, wanting to make sure I was ok._

_I wasn’t ok. I didn’t want to talk about it._

_The scene just kept replaying in my head hour after hour. Picking up the phone like such a big task in my state of depression._

_Being a student at the school of social work, I was surprised by how heavy I felt. How incurable I felt. How difficult it was to remember to stand up and eat, let alone pick up the phone and talk to somebody._

_I touched my forehead to the chilly window and watched the raindrops congregate on the glass. I huffed, and the raindrops dispersed. My eyes opened wide. How could my breath penetrate the glass? I huffed again and they trickled upwards, defying gravity. Then gravity won again and they dropped down the smooth surface as if it were a competition._

_As I child, rain was my always favorite weather. I loved the cool touch of the fat droplets on my scalp, such a rarely touched area. I loved the sound of the rain tapping peacefully on the window, asking to be let in, and the whoosh of the cars on the water-soaked road. I loved the way the world looked when it rained. Wet. Calm. Shiny. Serene._

_Anytime I heard the rain on the window or watched the drops race down the glass, I could never resist the urge to stick my head outside just to feel the water on my face. Sometimes, I’d drag my brother outside for thunderstorm dance party. Sometimes, I’d just stay inside and cheer on the drops as they chase each other downwards. I’d make bets and predict which was going to move next. Sometimes one drop would shoot right over another and drag it along in the race to the finish._

_Now, I chose one droplet that wasn’t moving and stared at it as hard as I could. I thought about how much I wanted it to win the race and beat the drop that was tumbling towards it._

_It started the move._

_The other drop closed in._

_My droplet gained speed, leaving a trail behind it._

_The other drop was far behind now._

_My droplet zipped downwards, perfectly dodging around all the others and leaping off the glass. It landed on the ground outside with a splash._

_Again and again, I controlled rain droplets and made them spin doughnuts on the glass._

_Then, I stood up and held my arms in the air and my hands in fists as if I were about to perform a magic trick. All at once, I popped open my hands, flicking my fingers outwards._

_Every raindrop on the window flew off and splattered on the concrete sidewalk. I grinned widely and jumped in triumph, pumping a fist in the air._

_After gathering myself, I then held my hands up like a police officer directing traffic. I made a bubble on the surface of the window that prevents rain from touching it. Every drop just bounced off and fell to the ground._

_In front of my apartment, two men in suits wandered down the sidewalk and pointed at my front door. I immediately dropped the bubble, letting the window become lightly dappled with water. I watched them walk up to my door and press the buzzer._

_Nervous, I pushed the button to speak to them and looked through the window in the door at them. “H-hello? Can I help you?” No matter how much I tried to stay calm, my voice still shook as I listened to what the men had to say._

_“Hi. Brooke? I am Agent Dante and this is my partner Agent Landis,” the man with brown hair said with a kind tone. Both of them held up their IDs with their pictures and names inside._

_“May we come in please?” I hesitated for a moment._

_“What are you here for?”_

_“We want to talk to you about Professor Jenison. Nothing to worry about, just some routine questions.”_

_“Can you open up please?” the Landis, with spiky hair, said._

_“Yeah, ok.” I paused for a moment and made sure I was put together and not still overly-excited._

_“See that window?” the second man said, his voice still coming through the speaker, “There’s barely any rain on it compared to the others.”_

_Panicked, I unlocked the door and pulled it open._

_“Come in.” I moved aside for them and they strided past me._

_“Sorry, it’s a bit cramped in here.”_

_“Student loans?” Dante asked._

_“Yup.” I lead them to a small round table with four chairs circling it. They sat across from me and Landis leaned his forearms on the table._

_“I’ve already told the story so many times…”_

_“But we would like to hear it from you,” Dante explained the same as all the other officials had, “What were you doing when you found her?”_

_I gulp. “I was walking to my first class which was the one she taught at the School of Social Work.”_

_“What are you studying for?” Landis asked, a new question._

_“A degree in psychology. I’m nearly done.”_

_“When you found her, was she alive?” Dante said, his dark eyebrows furrowing._

_“I heard her moan from around the corner, but I she stopped breathing after I called the ambulance.”_

_“Did she say anything?” I hesitated in order to decide what to tell them and what to keep to myself, but the silence only prompted them to ask again._

_“Brooke?” Landis pushed. “You can tell us anything. We just want to understand what happened,” Dante added._

_“She did say something. She was mumbling so I couldn’t really tell. Something like ‘Is he coming? Did he get you too?’”_

_The agents gave each other the side eye._

_“What was that look for?”_

_They looked at me, surprised that I’d noticed._

_“Nothing,” Landis covered, “just making sure my partner got all that.” He flashes me a smile._

_“Did Professor Jenison know anyone who must have disagreements with her or past bad experiences?” Dante said._

_“Uh, not that I know of. I didn’t know her too well, but she was one of the nicer teachers here. Really sweet and helpful. Her class was one of the more entertaining of the selection.”_

_Dante looked to Landis then back at me._

_“Would you mind if I used your restroom?”_

_“Oh, go ahead. Go through that door, then to the right.”_

_“Thank you.” He stood up and followed my directions._

_“How old are you?” Landis asked, leaning forwards._

_“24.”_

_“I’m 27.”_

_“How are you an FBI so young?”_

_He shrugged. “I just worked extremely hard and got lucky.” He finished the last word with a wink._

_“Are you hitting on me, Agent?”_

_“Maybe. Call me Dean.”_

_“Look, I’m obviously not emotionally stable right now, seeing as I just watched my professor die in front of me, I’m not looking for a one-night stand. So, you can either finish questioning me about Professor Jenison, or find your partner and leave.”_

_“Ok, I apologize.” He held his hand up in surrender. “Did you notice anything strange that day?”_

_“Strange?”_

_“Yeah, like changes in temperature, people’s behavior, the smell of sulfur, anything out of the ordinary.”_

_I thought of the water evaporating from my shoe and clouds suddenly appearing in the sky and the fact that I can control water now. Oh, and my professor coming back from the dead. I shook my head. “Everything was totally normal.” His partner turned the corner and Dean Landis stood up to leave._

_“Thank you for your time, Brooke,” Dante said politely. Landis slid a card across the glossy table._

_“Call us here if you need something.” He ended with a wink again and showed himself to the door. I locked the front door behind them and listened to their conversation on my porch._

_“She’s hiding something,” Landis stated bluntly._

_“No kidding. She left out so many details that all the other people we talked to mentioned, but--”_

_“I’ll keep an eye on her for sure.”_

_“But,” Dante repeated, “she could just be in shock.”_

_As they stroll down the sidewalk, I have to strain to hear them._

_“There wasn’t any blood, all she saw was her professor stone cold on the ground. Either she’s leaving stuff out and playing down or is just really fragile and wimpy.”_

_“We’ll check on her later. Right now we need to think about the possibilities. Witches are still a potential threat…”_

_“As is everything else. We are no closer whatsoever.” With that they walk out of earshot and turn the corner._


	3. 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio question people at the police department.

I wake to the sound of the shower running. I roll over and cuddle into Dean’s back.

“Morning,” I whisper into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Hey,” he mumbles into the pillow. 

I kiss his neck and say, “What do you wanna do today? I thought we could have breakfast at the old coffee shop before talking to the sheriff.”

He rolls over slightly. “Nah, let's go there later tonight. I want to grab breakfast at the motel, then go to the sheriff. The coffee shop has a different menu at dinner time, right?” 

The shower stops. 

“Mm...Well it was nine years ago, so I wouldn't know. Why does it matter?”

“I want to check out the local chicks.”

“Ha. Ha. Very funny. Just tell me the truth.”

“I asked some of your old friends to meet us for coffee.”

I sit up, alarmed. “Friends? I haven't seen them for almost a decade. What am I supposed to say? I can't remember half of their names. What do I say I've been doing all these years?”

“Just say you ran away with me.”

"Dean..."

Sam steps out of the bathroom fully dressed. “Good you're both awake. What's the plan?”

Dean fills him in. 

“I can grab breakfast right now while you guys are getting dressed and bring it here for us to eat on the way to the sheriff’s.”

“Perfect.”

* * *

 

Dean tosses the wrapper of his breakfast burger into a trashcan outside of the police office. I straighten the boys’ ties and send them in. 

I wait three minutes before heading in myself. I am playing as a reporter for the paper, while Sam and Dean are FBI investigating the “murder”.  

Inside, I talk to a police officer about whether or not he knew the victim. He had never seen the kid before.

I speak to three other people in the lobby, but none of them personally knew the victim. 

When Sam and Dean come out, I follow them into the parking lot and give them the news.

“Nothing helpful. You?”

Dean shakes his head, “Nada.”

“So should we head to lunch and mull this over?” I ask.

“I think we should try to check out the witnesses and the vic first.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
